


Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face

by huntthewicked



Series: bleed for me [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Dean smoking, Ficlet, Fluff, Hurt Dean Winchester, Kinda?, M/M, POV Sam, Pre-Hell Dean, Protective Sam Winchester, Wincest - Freeform, Wounded Dean, because I get hot and bothered thinking about Dean smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 11:06:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7505902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntthewicked/pseuds/huntthewicked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is covered with blood, sweat and dirt after a hunt. Sam has a thing for chaotic Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face

**Author's Note:**

> I always picture Dean smoking when he gets frustrated or extremely tired so in my mind smoking Dean is a thing.

Dean smirks up at Sam with darkness from the night air shrouding his eyes. Black shadows carving mountains that rise into his eyebrows, growing with each subtle twitch forward towards his brother who is heaving. Breathing with difficulty because Dean looks so goddamn fuckable when he's covered in sweat, a memento kept temporarily after each hunt that twists and slips it's way through their fingers. 

Sam notices the blood seeping through his ash grey torn jeans, remembers the hole on the third belt loop to the left and how his thumb felt slipping into that gap and brushing against his brothers hot, tan, skin when he first discovered the gap. A cigarette hangs out the curve of his mouth and it brings dirty thoughts to Sam's mind, how easy it would be to taste the nicotine pounding through Dean's system from a single lick into his mouth.

Sam crams the pistol that is warmed from over use down the back of his jeans, it fits in the space so easily, a move bred from familiarity. He knows he needs to act, stop the bleeding and get his brother cleaned up on the side of the road like when they were kids and Dean would wipe the dirt off Sam's hands as if their future could be so easily removed. But Dean is hypnotising.

Smoke drifts up from the burning embers and highlights the damage his hair has suffered tonight, old product and sweat causing dirty blonde tufts to stick up in all directions becoming the embodiment of chaos. 

Pulling him off the hood of the Impala, Sam slides his arm around Dean's waist and the other pulls out the cigarette which he throws away blindly. Dean grins crookedly and he looks so smug and tired and hot and Sam can't stop himself, he bends down and parts his lips against his brothers, kisses him leisurely with the barest hint of tongue.

Now the dusk haze bounces off the white of his teeth as Sam rests his forehead against his brothers, head tilted slightly at Dean's lazy expression. He smells like tobacco, the leather of his jacket and the underlying unmistakable scent that is Dean. It keeps Sam centered as he breathes slowly, burying his nose into his shoulder and inhaling deeply trying to calm himself.

Dean slouches against his brother, audibly struggling for breath but his face only shows a smile, a relaxed close and open of eyelids like lethargy.

Sam pushes his hand through Dean's sweat matted hair and traces the line of his jaw, blood from just below his neck hair line dragging across his cheek until he slips his thumb in between Dean's parted lips.

He looks at Sam with confusion, not understanding why a single tear has fallen out of his hazel eyes or why his hand has dropped. So Dean slips his hand into Sam's back pocket and kisses him again, leaving the barest hint of copper on his lips.

"Never leave me" Sam whispers, biting the soft skin behind Dean's ear and leaving a possessive mark to prove that Dean is real and his.

"Never"


End file.
